I am always caught on the ragged edges of your breath. There are too many words in the syncopation of your sighs and I never know which ones you mean. I know that I need them. A sequence of notes is not always a song, but I still listen for a melody. And still, I expect more than I find in your slanted glance. Your eyes are dissonance trapped behind glass. Once, the secrets hiding between your lashes peeked out. Their echoes are still tonguing the air.

Like a discordant chord striking the piano deaf,Or a saxophone that lost its swanky sex appeal, When you breathe down the neck of my violin, The horsehair refuses to bow,When you huff out your limitations into my harmonica, You disrupt my harmony, Throwing me offbeat.